All the Things
by Wearmyring
Summary: Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. A collection of oneshots.
1. Finding Warmth

Disclaimer: Mrs. Rowling is obviously much cooler than me. So she owns everything.

_We can stay warm awhile, can you stay one more hour?_

_You know I'm going to find a way to let you have your way with me._

"Hermione, stop being so bloody proud and come over here where it's warm."

She stiffened, pursed her lips. It was taking a lot of willpower to ignore him.

"It's freezing and you're being stupid for the first time in your life. Can't you just put aside your anger for later? I can see you shiver from all the way over here."

Hermione snorted, turning over in her bed to face Ron for the first time that night. The two of them were lying in the tent, an uncomfortable silence between them, Harry outside keeping watch. The tent was little comfort to the violent snowstorm outside, despite crackling flames that she had conjured up. Of course she was freezing, but how was she suppose to just forgive Ron? No, she would not give in, even if she became ice under her flimsy blanket.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ronald, I'm perfectly fine."

He sighed, sitting up in his bed, his blanket tangled around him. She caught herself from staring, though he did look painfully warm.

"'Mione, I'm sorry. I'll say it a thousand times. A million. Please, I can't stand not talking to you."

His voice was low, the fire dancing a little across his pale skin and vibrant hair. She sighed.

"It isn't that easy. You left, Ron. Harry and I, we were miserable. And we were in danger, and you just walked out. That's your best friend, Ron and-" he cut her off.

"You think I don't know that?" He said, his voice increasing. "I feel like a bloody bastard, Hermione, but you know what? I'm back now and I'm not going to stop fighting. I won't stop fighting you-know-who, I won't stop fighting to keep Harry safe, and I'm not going to stop fighting for you." He took a deep breath, angry.

She blinked, watching him closely. A faint blush had painted her cheeks, and she slowly sat up. He did the opposite, laying back down, and lifting up his blanket for her. She looked worried, now.

"You mean it?'

He gave her a small, reassuring grin, his anger seeming to subside. She found herself relishing in that tender look her was giving her.

"Every word."

It was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the snow outside. She stood up, taking her blanket and padded over to his bed, crawling in next to him and sighing at the warmth between the two of them. He chuckled, his breathe tickling the back of her neck as he snaked his arms around her.

"I knew you were freezing."

She closed her eyes, taking in his scent and placing her hands over his arms.

"I'm still mad at you." The love in her voice gave her away.

He leaned over, placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek and then one in her hair. "When are you not?"

She was silent, slowly falling asleep, his breath warm and steady against her skin. Closing his own eyes, he decided this was perfect for now.


	2. Gryffindor Courage

_Have I ever told you before_

_I think you're beautiful_

Ron Weasley had never seen anything so magnificent.

He wasn't sure if it was her dress, or the way she seemed to glow under the dim lighting. But either way, at that moment Ron wished that it had just been the two of_ them_ that had just exchanged vows. Hermione Granger was easily the most beautiful person in that room, and he'd have no problem admitting it even if confronted by Fleur Delacour herself.

He wondered how he could feel so happy at such a grim time. The party buzzed around him, and people were dancing merrily and drinking from the goblets his mother and Fleur argued about just a week ago. But no matter how hard he tried to focus his attention elsewhere, his eyes kept wandering back over to Hermione, who now sat at a table with Harry, looking nervous. He set off towards them, nodding and waving at some of his already tipsy relatives. He reached her, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her.

Her voice was soft as she spoke. "How is everything looking?"

He smiled, still a little dazed at the exposed skin of her neck. "Beautiful."

Harry, who sat behind Hermione, raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly. Ron frowned, and coughed loudly causing his Aunt Muriel to shoot him a dirty look from the table next to them.

"I mean-yeah. Beautiful. No trouble or anything. Just great."

Harry snorted and took his glass while Hermione glanced between the two of them, looking confused. Ron cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation to safer waters.

"Ceremony was nice. Cept' for Muriel trying to hex Fred and George halfway through, but I suspect you can't have everything." he muttered. His friends nodded in agreement, Harry checking the tent openings every few seconds. He seemed anxious, looking around the party as if you-know-who was going to spring up from one of the table centers. They were quiet for a moment before he stood up, leaving Ron and Hermione at the table. "I'll catch up with you later."

Ron wondered what made him leave so suddenly, but he scoffed when he saw him approach Ginny, who took his hand and led him to dance. Hermione laughed lightly next to him.

"Oh, stop it. Harry has enough to deal with without overprotective brothers breathing down his neck."

He blushed, still watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. "I am not being overprotective." he muttered.

She laughed again, lifting the frown on his face. The twinkle in her eye caught his attention for the second time that night. He reached for her hand, their fingers brushing.

"Come dance with me?" He grinned slightly, quickly adding "As a first resort."

She smiled, taking his hand and letting him lead her off to where everyone was dancing. He turned to her, placing one hand on the fabric of her waist and grasping her hand with the other. They swayed gently to the soft music, moving in small circles. Her scent, warm and sweet, enveloped him and threw him into a hazy sort of Euphoria. He wondered when he would ever get the courage to tell her he loved her. After all, he was a Gryffindor. Surely, it couldn't be any scarier than facing death, something he came to find that he's done quite a bit. But dancing here with her, he decided it was best to keep quiet.

"What are you thinking about?" Her voice made him focus his attention. He decided to try and answer her as honestly as possible. "You look beautiful."

She smiled at him, resting her head on top of his shoulder. The song had ended, and they had moved into another, the crowd around them thinning.

"Everything is changing." She murmured, her breath grazing his throat. He moved both his hands around her center, the two of them accepting the embrace. His view settled on the yard outside the tent, the sky sparkling with tiny twinkling stars. She pressed her hands on his chest, her firm but affectionate touch making the two of them stop. She now looked him face on, a concerned expression worrying her features. He brushed away a lock of her hair from her eyes, wondering vaguely if they understood the intimate position they were in, physically and mentally. Setting his hand back on her waist, he gave her a reassuring smile.

"We'll be okay."

She looked ready to kiss his lips, and he tried to figure out what he would do if she did, but instead she reached up to his cheek, her hot lips lingering on his skin. He blinked, his head dancing. She glowed.

"Thank you." She murmured.

He found her hand once more, and her head returned to his shoulder. He enjoyed the simplicity of the moment, just the two of them dancing together like nothing was wrong. With the heat of her lips still burning his cheek, he hoped her would that Gryffindor courage soon.


End file.
